Perspective

Hillary, in so many words

By the Times staff
Published January 27, 2008

More than 93 percent of all Americans can identify Sen. Hillary Clinton. Not surprising until you learn that only 69 percent in that same Pew survey could name the vice president -- Dick Cheney. She's well-known, yet not known well. She herself has said "I'm a Rorschach test" of people's own attitudes and their tendency to project them on to her. A new book -- Thirty Ways of Looking at Hillary -- asked 30 distinguished women writers to reflect on her, to gauge the ways in which women think about her. How do I put this? Until I read the book, I had no idea. I did not understand just how deep, varied and strong are the currents that inform this discussion -- the fundamental vein it taps intellectually and emotionally. I commend the essays to you, and we offer a taste of them here (below).

In addition, four Times staffers who share her middle-age milieu join in with their musings: Colette Bancroft, on Hillary Clinton as Ginger Rogers; Waveney Ann Moore, on how alike, yet different, she and Clinton are; Lennie Bennett, on Clinton's making the same choices as a generation of women, life choices reflected in fashion; and Patty Ryan, on the candidate she finds inspiring but less fresh.

Jim Verhulst, Perspective editor

Susan Cheever is the author of a dozen books

Hillary is always trying to get us to forget that she is a woman because she knows how distracting it can be. Yet it's the most important thing about her. She isn't just another suit. She's not one of those dead white males who still happens to be alive. Quietly, without tears or flirtatiousness, she is changing what it means to be a woman.

Elizabeth Kolbert is a staff writer at the New Yorker

Pretty much by definition, politics is about power. Power is rarely gained through civility, or niceness or purity of heart. It has to be wrested from those who already have it and who are, as a rule, loath to give it up. If Clinton weren't a woman she could quite easily be admired for her remorselessness.

Lorrie Moore, author of six books of fiction, teaches at the University of Wisconsin

History aside, does her gender confer special status and meaning on her candidacy? In my opinion it is a little late in the day to become sentimental about a woman running for president. The cultural moment for feminine role models may have passed. The children who are suffering in this country, who are having trouble in school, and for whom the murder and suicide rates are high -- as well as the crime rate and the economic dropout rate -- are boys, especially boys of color.

Jane Kramer is the European correspondent of the New Yorker and the author of nine books, including Europeans, The Politics of Memory, The Last Cowboy and Lone Patriot

What do I think of Hillary? The question is, really, why do I think of Hillary? Or, more accurately, why do I keep thinking about what I think of Hillary? I do not wake up thinking about Barack Obama or John Edwards or Joe Biden, and certainly I do not let Republicans trouble my sleep, since they are troublesome enough every waking day. But I am obsessed with Hillary Rodham Clinton. I am doing what men do, and what I swore never to do. I am turning a presidential candidate into a candidate for gender studies -- and I don't know why.

Lionel Shriver, author of eight novels, including We Need to Talk About Kevin, is the chief fiction reviewer for the Economist and the Daily Telegraph

Stories are not merely the province of fiction. History is made of them, and they matter. The story of how the first woman is elected president of the United States will last far beyond the tenure of her administration, and will have repercussions for the reputation of her gender nationwide long after she has stepped down.

Katie Roiphe is the author, most recently, of Uncommon Arrangements: Seven Portraits of Married Life in London Literary Circles 1910-1939. She teaches at New York University

It is interesting to note that in spite of predictions to the contrary, Hillary has a much more comfortable relation to younger, blue-collar women, a much more effortless popularity. It is, paradoxically, the women most like her, the demographic most similar in their education and achievements, that have the most difficulty with her. This is curious.

Susan Lehman, a writer, editor and lawyer, is the co-author, with Edward W. Hayes, of Mouthpiece: A Life In -- and Just Outside -- the Law

An inarguable fact -- and lawyers love inarguable facts! -- is that Hillary Clinton spent the longest stretch of her professional life working in a corporate law firm. ... Neither Hillary Clinton nor the average corporate law partner is likely to make anyone's blood jump or their heart sing. When you are in trouble, however -- real trouble -- it may be that the person you want to see isn't the guy who wows you with his wit and charisma but someone who has really done her homework, pored over all the boring details, and then gone back over them again, just for fun.

Dahlia Lithwick, a senior editor and legal correspondent for Slate, writes the column "Supreme Court Dispatches."

I have long believed that if the story of Hillary Clinton had been a movie on Lifetime Television for Women, we would all be naming our babies after her. ... But there's something about the reality of Hillary Clinton, the accommodations she has made and the roles she has played, that leaves many of us cold. The question I can't help asking is: Do we only warm to successful women when they aren't real?

Thirty Ways of Looking at Hillary, Edited by Susan Morrison, Harper Collins, 254 pages, $23.95

Lennie Bennett, Times art critic, was born and grew up in St. Petersburg, attended a small women's college, Agnes Scott, registered Republican to placate her family (though often voting Democrat -- don't tell anyone), joined the Junior League to placate her family (though actually enjoying the volunteer experience and becoming its president), has been divorced for a number of years and has two very independent young adult children.

About Hillary Clinton: I am neutral. Which is not to say, in political parlance, I'm undecided. I'm definitely decided. I have decided that she is outstandingly ordinary and predictable in her choices. They're the same ones I and most women I know in our 50s and 60s have been making for more than 30 years. It's the same journey, only in her case writ larger and known to the world. My opinion is based on what she has looked like over the decades: hair, clothes, makeup (or lack thereof). Scroll through photos. Her appearance places her exactly at a particular point of discovery or self-realization, and it always conforms to cultural and social shifts we of that generation have experienced. And they have been many and dramatic. Some would call this a superficial zeitgeist. But using her sartorial arc to parallel her personal and professional self-discovery is, I believe, valid. Some examples, beginning with her college years.

The earnest student look: A-line skirts, ironed cotton blouses with Peter Pan collars. Hair set with rollers and a hooded hairdryer. Serious and respectful, in spite of world events that invited deep cynicism. That she didn't use highlights indicates a latent iconoclasm. Reference the Wellesley commencement speech.

The postgrad radical look: We were there, too, our clothes and hair affecting a studied nonchalance approaching hippiness. (The hair only looked dirty.) But for God's sake, we were inventing a new world order. Or thought we could.

The I'm-in-the-system-but-not-its-toady look: Payback time for the years of sacrificial idealism. We were the vanguard of women aspiring to executive suites. Translated into suits of polyestered armor we all endured before Donna Karan showed us that professional women could be individuals. I recall big shoulder pads and big hair. (We were learning to use blow-dryers.) And separate checking accounts if we were married. Reference Hillary's role as the family breadwinner during the Arkansas years.

The TASTEFUL FASHIONISTA LOOK: We no longer needed to prove we could have careers outside the home and did not feel the need to look different from our nonprofessional friends. Some of us chose to "retire" and feather our nests. We had Martha Stewart. Hillary was first lady, the biggest stay-at-home-mom gig anywhere. St. John suits. As soon as we could afford one, we bought it. Blond highlights, as soon as we could afford standing appointments. A uniform, to be sure, but we needed it. Reference the First Wives Club and Monica Lewinsky. Hillary had her share of expensive missteps in cultivating the look as we all did. Sort of like the health care thing.

Currently, the female CEO look: We're about as good as we'll ever be at this point, professionally, and if we don't have a personal style by now, well. ... Like the rest of us, Hillary has come to terms with the limitations and characteristics of her hair and body type. (I personally think she wears pants a lot to conceal thick ankles.) She's polished, tasteful and self-assured. Doesn't need designer logos plastered all over her person. An accumulation of experience and aspiration, her anonymously expensive clothes and flawless hair and makeup reflect her choice to fit in, to be conspicuous only by virtue of her accomplishments. Most of the high-level corporate women I know have made that same choice.

I sometimes wish for more fashion swagger and swag; she's earned the right to cool shoes.

But I get her. We are of the same tribe. She has chosen to be neutral so, about Hillary, I am neutral.

Lennie Bennett can be reached at lennie@sptimes.com.

Colette Bancroft, Times book editor, was born in Ohio and grew up in South Tampa. Her mother worked in banking and her father owned an auto repair business. She participated in her first antiwar and civil rights marches as a high school student, graduated from USF and the University of Florida and taught English at several universities before switching to journalism.

Hillary Clinton's run for the presidency keeps reminding me of Ginger Rogers.

As in, Ginger had to do everything Fred Astaire did, except backward and in high heels.

Much as I wish that 1970s feminist wisecrack was outdated, it chimes in my head every time I hear some bloviator blathering about Hillary's toughness or tears, hair or hormones. What century do those geezers and I'm talking about their wheezy old attitudes, not their chronological ages live in?

I'm still not sure how I'll cast my imaginary vote on Tuesday. I certainly don't agree with Hillary on everything, now or in the past.

But I'm a baby boomer, a feminist, a working woman, and I can't help identifying with her when she has to put up with being judged too mean if she's not sensitive, too sensitive if she's not mean. Or when she has to listen to a lunkhead like Chris Matthews braying that she only got to be a senator because her husband played around and folks felt sorry for her. Hey, if that's how it works, time to pay up, boys -- I expect to see the Senate filled with 100 politicians' wives next term, with a special subcommittee of Rudy Giuliani's exes.

In the first presidential primary I ever voted in, back in 1972, I punched a chad for Democrat Shirley Chisholm, an accomplished and admirable member of Congress from New York who was black as well as female. (She garnered 152 delegates.)

Back then, I voted for Chisholm because she was black and female (and not Richard Nixon). Thirty-six years later, all of us ought to be past judging any candidate by race or gender. But Hillary's still dancing backward.

Colette Bancroft can be reached at bancroft@sptimes.com.

Waveney Ann Moore, a Times staff writer based in St. Petersburg, was born in Guyana, South America. After becoming a naturalized citizen, she voted for the first time in the 1988 general elections.

Iget neither rabid nor excessively fervent about the woman who doesn't need a surname. In fact, I'd like to believe that when the former first lady, current New York senator, persevering spouse of Bill and aspiring leader of the United States comes to mind, that I can be at once thoughtful and objective. It's worth a try, anyway.

Because I'm of an age to remember feeling proud of the pioneering ascendancy of Sirimavo Bandaranaike in Sri Lanka, Indira Gandhi in India and Golda Meir in Israel, the idea of Hillary or any woman becoming president of these United States -- where people in every corner of the world believe the streets are paved with possibility -- fails to catapult me into raw panic.

I bring to my view of Hillary a few things we share in common: oldest child, of a certain age, mother of a beloved only child, wife and professional.

There's plenty that separates us, as well. I'm black, with an accent that betrays my immigrant roots, and a naturalized American with no chance of becoming president, even if I wanted to. I grew up in a poor former British colony, know what it's like to live in a house without running water, how to use an outdoor latrine and never saw a television until I was 20. My parents instilled in their six children a love for reading and education and are old- fashioned. Daddy makes the decisions and my mother quietly lets him think that he does.

My background, in part, informs the way I feel about Hillary. Words like ambitious, articulate, strong, courageous and intelligent come to mind. Add to that compromising and perhaps, exceedingly forgiving. Yes, I'm familiar with where she stands on issues from schools to health care to the war in Iraq to global warming. And yes, she doesn't strike me as a Jane Austen heroine, gentle and coy, but then neither did Mother Teresa, who, by all accounts, got the job done nonetheless.

But, I digress. Knowing how Hillary will respond to key issues does affect how I think of her, but I suspect that like many others, my opinion about this complex woman was formed long before she decided to run for the nation's top office.

Who didn't have an opinion when word of Bill's dalliances made news even before he became leader of the world's superpower? I was particularly sympathetic when the Bill-Monica affair brought further public humiliation. Publicly, she responded to the revelations with dignity. In private, who knows, she might have attacked him with the talons of a virago. To voluntarily throw herself back into the spotlight is either foolish or courageous. I think of it as the latter and can't help but wonder how many of her detractors, feminists and perennial Hillary haters alike, who make sport of deriding her marriage, themselves remain in quietly desperate unions of convenience.

Hillary supported her husband through triumph and scandal, so it might now be his turn to plan state dinners and decorate the White House Christmas tree.

There's another thing. I commiserate with the not-so-veiled references to Hillary's age and comparisons to the more youthful Barack Obama.

How the years speed by. I remember how amused my husband and I were when our first-year Harvard daughter came home at Christmas scolding us for not recycling our newspapers and soda cans and proudly wearing a "Vote for Hillary's husband" button.

Years later, now that Hillary is actually running for president, my American-born daughter is more thoughtful. She says she identifies with this Wellesley- and Yale-educated former first lady as a woman of strength, but at the same time can't help but appreciate the historic potential of an Obama victory.

If ever there was a conundrum for those who admire Hillary but are drawn to Obama, this is it.

Waveney Ann Moore can be reached at wmoore@sptimes.com or (727) 892-2283.

Patty Ryan cast her first presidential vote for Jimmy Carter. Her two yellow dogs offer a hint of her leanings. She grew up in Pinellas Park and is now an editor for the St. Petersburg Times in Tampa.

It is tempting to seek hope outside of ourselves. It is tempting to want a hero, to believe that the future rests not in the hands of ordinary people but in hidden destiny. Barack Obama stirs that in us. He touches an imago, and so we sense there is more to him than meets the eye.

Hillary Clinton is no less inspiring, simply less fresh. She endured the worst of Washington but apparently cared enough to return. She infiltrated theherd that trampled her, to redirect its course. As reward, she gets to be the butt of snotty jokes and to be judged by an invisible yardstick. People assume there is less to her than meets the eye.

We forget that before she married, she had political ambitions. She earned a law degree at Yale. She also advised the House committee that forced Richard Nixon's resignation. I don't believe that her run for the presidency is a copycat crime.

Perhaps women view her as ordinary because we view ourselves as such. We are unaccustomed to surrendering power to one who may be vulnerable to our own self-doubts. I am not sure why Clinton draws enmity so disproportionate to her deeds. But we should ask ourselves whether she polarizes because she's inadequate or if the very suggestion of a woman president will always be polarizing to some.

It would be foolish to vote solely on race or gender but equally foolish to disregard the opportunity to widen the view from the top.

Women form a majority in the United States, which has had 43 white male presidents.

As a white woman, the gulf of gender feels somehow deeper to me than the gulf of race. I identify more with other women than with men of any skin color. And I wonder how unbroken paternalism can possibly cultivate change.

The office makes the leader, given a supply of intelligence and energy and passion. Clearly, it has already begun to shape Clinton.

Patty Ryan can be reached at pryan@sptimes.com.

[Last modified January 27, 2008, 01:56:04]